


Skim

by mother_hearted



Category: Silent Hill
Genre: M/M, Oral Fixation, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-14
Updated: 2011-05-14
Packaged: 2017-10-19 09:18:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_hearted/pseuds/mother_hearted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>hot whispers of words hit his skin</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skim

**Author's Note:**

> Written for kink_bingo @ dreamwidth, kink: oral fixation.

He's been in this new world for all of five minutes and he can't help but think he liked the subway world better. The areas were closed and what he could see he could see and there was nothing else there. But in this open area, trees and bushes littered throughout, he can't shake the feeling someone or something is watching him, eying the way he grips the worn, rusted steel beneath his fingers or the tight purse of his lips, afraid to let out even so much as a soft breath.

Dirt underneath his feet, the scent of animal and plant should feel natural but it's tinged by something rawer, darker, ugly that makes his throat close up and eyes sting. He moves through slowly, wary of cricks and cracks and chocked off cries that come from all around him. Henry can't tell if he's a good survivalist or not, when he's waiting, waiting for something to jump out and rip its teeth into him.

Yet for all his worry and unease, he hasn't seen a thing, living or dead. He doesn't know what he should be looking for, outside of danger and the puddles of blood soaking into the ground tell him that something was once here, wherever it went. Why he even has to be the one looking in the first place, he doesn't know.

(and there's that part of him that doesn't want to know, doesn't want to hear the answer he would get)

The moonlight illuminates his trail deeper into the forest, his posture relaxing inch by inch as he gets farther in, his only company the rustle of leaves disturbed by the wind. The night chill nips at his throat and rubbing a thumb softly over his Adam's apple he blinks stunned at the new area he walks up to, flat with a large rock of a monument of some sort and walking his way around it, paces slow and shoulders held back, he finds a man.

Staring on the other side, Henry wasn't expecting to find anyone, hadn't been hoping to find anyone, because the last person he found died, brutally, and all he'd been able to do was tell her she was dreaming.

A _dream._

When this whole place was a goddamn _nightmare._

Shaking his head, did he wander into this place like him? He was crouched low on the ground, quiet. Looking to be unarmed, Henry set down his pipe before walking over carefully. He let the scuff of his shoes in the ground sound out, last he wanted to do was scare him. Not knowing what else to say or do he stands in front of him, face impassive before his voice breaks the silence he wrapped himself in when he first arrived.

"Are you... all right?"

It takes a few moments before he gets a reaction. When the man tilts his head up, it's like a time bomb goes off. Words come flying out of his mouth, low and clumsy, too many words for Henry to keep everything straight ( _this stone_ and this _guy_ and _orders_ and _cults_ ). Opening his mouth uselessly, _um, uh... h-hey_ , Henry can only stand and watch, listen, taking in the way his body slowly shakes the more he stutters (and the stuttering hits him hard, reminds him of when he was young, his nervous mouth and tongue and how _hard_ everything was) and when he gets to the _ch-ch-chills_ Henry can't take it anymore.

His kneels down _hey_ , reaching out carefully to cup both sides of his face, thumbs resting on his cheek bones. It's unnerving, how even then the man keeps going, and quivering beneath his hands and his eyes stare wide into Henry's. Henry isn't used to being this close to people, even when he initiates the contact and a lump grows in his throat.

 _hey_

Somehow, he wants to help, wants to calm the stream of nerves and broken letters and give him a chance to breath and his thumbs rub across the skin of his cheeks, as soothing as he can be with rough callous marks and big hands.

 _it's okay_

Henry doesn't know if there are monsters here, monsters imitating beasts with limps and open wounds and piercing cries backed up with sharp teeth. Right here and right now though, there aren't any in sight, it's just the two of them and if that's the case, then right here and now _is okay_ and he continues, careful as he can, corners around his eyes and mouth loosening up as he strokes the sides of this man's face with his thumbs. It's when he shifts his wrist, drags his thumb down more he catches the corner of his lip and his breath catches in his throat, lips chapped but warm, heated by shaky breath.

He's about to pull back when he sees the man's body shudder briefly, looking right at Henry his eyes flicker, sending a wash of warmth ( _alarming_ but _good_ ) down his spine. Hesitant, he can feel his own hands start to shake, he keeps cupping his face, thumb brushing the corner of his lips again until finally he runs his thumb right over, feels hot whispers of words hit his skin and he can't hold back his own gasp.

He can feel the life in him, the heat of his breath entrancing Henry and it's reassuring, someone _alive_ and _living_ in this world with him that he can't quite stop, large thumb running over his lips again and again until they part, thumb slowly sinking between them that Henry lets out a small, cracked noise.

He doesn't know what he's doing, both of them silent save for the heavy breathing between them but now _he's_ the one shaking, skin suddenly feverish and tight against his body. His thumb in his mouth, he can feel the flush in his cheeks, growing deeper and spreading to his collarbone, the press of tongue ( _hot_ ) making the muscles in his shoulder and arms stiffen.

And suddenly Henry finds himself sinking down to his knees, everything hot and unbearable and he's never been _touched_ like this before and with the press of his thumb, deeper, lips passing over his knuckle, his body tense in all the wrong ( _right_ ) places, he feels his mind slip into a haze. His nerves on fire, he takes a moment to bask in the hot electric feeling of being _alive._


End file.
